


Three Seasons, Three Guys

by GalacticallyNonbinary



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Implied Smut, M/M, but mostly it's angst, sadness y'all, teensy bit of fluff, virgil is hurtin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticallyNonbinary/pseuds/GalacticallyNonbinary
Summary: Summer romances are bullshit.But the other seasons...Virgil has plenty of painfully sweet memories wrapped up in those.





	1. Summer

**Author's Note:**

> So if this gets a good reception, I might add more to it, cause I've got some ideas about where this could go. Anywho, I hope you like it!

Virgil rolled his eyes at the sunlight bursting through his window and the sound of people talking loudly outside. It was summer, unarguably the worst season. It was too hot, he’d be melting in his hoodie whenever he went out. The pressure to socialize and have a ‘fun’ summer was not at all what he wanted to do. Yes, summer was the worst season by far.

Maybe those reasons were excuses though. Maybe, truthfully, summer made him realize just how alone he was. Summer romances were flaunted everywhere, shown as the epitome of true love. And yet Virgil had never had one.

The other seasons though, with them they always brought memories of a different guy.


	2. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fire. A dare.

Fall brought beautiful leaves, chilly air, bonfires, and an overdramatic boy just learning to be a pilot. One October night, while the fire popped and crackled, he was the life of the party.

Drinking beer after beer, dancing around, and singing at the top of his lungs, Virgil soon realized that this boy had just gotten his wings. He was celebrating. Virgil also managed to catch the boy’s name. This was mainly because he had run around the party chanting ‘Roman!’ for five minutes straight. Virgil himself sat alone by the fire, enjoying the warmth as he sipped on a cold beer. Needless to say, he was startled when the boy and his friends joined him around the fire. Seeing him in the amber glow, Virgil immediately noticed how the boy’s eyes twinkled and shone with excitement. 

“I hope you don’t mind, we wanted to play a few games over by the fire.”

Roman’s voice held a quality that captured Virgil’s attention, it floated proudly through the air and overtop of the fire’s roar.

“…I…I don’t mind.” Virgil stood up and started to walk away, looking for a quieter place to sit.

“Hold on!” He looked back to see a mischievous grin alighting on the boy’s face. “I never said that you had to leave. Why don’t you play with us?” Virgil froze, looking at the circle of people staring at him. This was not his idea of fun. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared!” Pouting, Virgil walked back over and sat down in the circle next to Roman. He knew he had made a mistake, but it would’ve been even worse if he had awkwardly gotten back up and left. He could survive some stupid party game. Roman’s voice drifted over the crowd.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” No, nevermind, this was the worst. Virgil could not survive this.

They started with the boy on the other side of Virgil, and with each new person, his heart would beat faster and faster. Finally, it was Roman’s turn. After Roman went, Virgil would have to go. He was thinking so much about his own turn that he didn’t hear Roman choose ‘dare.’ He didn’t even notice everyone in the circle shift their gaze to him. 

“Virgil?” The anxious boy almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Roman’s voice. Was it his turn? Oh god oh god ohgod- “How about it?” A deer in headlights, Virgil blinked silently as he looked into Roman’s eyes. Obviously able to tell that Virgil hadn’t been paying attention, Roman explained, “They dared me to pick someone in the circle to kiss. I…uh…” his cheeks were pink. “I chose you. I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to but-”

“I don’t care. Pucker up, pilot.” Virgil hoped his snarky remark masked the panic that filled him. His heart was beating so loud, so fast…Roman came nearer. Wrapped an arm around Virgil. Closer, closer, only inches away…

He tasted like fall. Like the joy of flying through the air, like the cool breeze that surrounded them, like the leaves that crunched underfoot. His embrace was like a sweater, enveloping Virgil in warmth. They pulled away, staring at each other, while the rest of the circle whistled and clapped.

They all agreed that Roman’s dare could count as Virgil’s too, and Virgil was silently grateful that he didn’t have to go. The rest of the night, Roman kept an arm around Virgil. The pilot was more than happy to let Virgil drive them both to Virgil’s house. He didn’t let that arm leave Virgil’s waist for an entire week. Pretty romantic.

A little frightening, to be honest.

And of course, with the end of the fall comes the bare trees, even colder air, and just a hint of frost on the ground. 

And with the end of fall came a late night conversation.

“I have to go, love. I’m a pilot, I have to work, you know that.” Silence. Virgil refused to look up. He clung to Roman, holding him as if letting go would mean death. Honestly, that wasn’t too far from the truth. “Please, don’t wait for me. I don’t know when I’m…if I’m coming back. I’ll always remember you.” A kiss on the head, tears that wouldn’t stop falling, and all of a sudden…

Virgil’s door closed. The warmth he had been holding onto was gone. The entire apartment was immediately darker and sadder. 

Fall. 

A fire, a kiss, a week-long embrace.

And a goodbye.


	3. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cafe. A coffee cup.

He refused to let himself fall that hard again. The world around him froze as winter took hold, and Virgil froze his own heart, locking it away.

It was the first time he had been out of his apartment in a long time. He visited a nearby café, and was the only person who dared to sit outside in the freezing temperatures. The loneliness was nice. It was exactly what he needed. 

A man slipped on a patch of ice in front of Virgil. The papers he held went flying. Instinctively, Virgil bent down to help him pick them up.

“Thank you. It would’ve been hell if I’d lost my students’ essays.” Virgil nodded. Neither one of them moved. The awkward silence drifted down on top of them along with the snowflakes. Clearing his throat, Virgil moved to sit back at his table. “You’re going to sit out here? It’s freezing.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should let yourself get hypothermia. Get inside, I don’t want to watch a stranger freeze to death while I drink my coffee.” He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so Virgil sighed and followed the teacher into the café.

He let the man lead him to a table, and Virgil watched as he walked to the counter to order his coffee.

The man came back a few minutes later. Virgil noticed the name written in black sharpie on the cup.

“Logan.” The man looked up, meeting his gaze.

“Yes, my name is Logan. I don’t believe I ever got yours…?”

“Virgil.” Logan’s eyes started sparkling and what looked like a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Virgil thought he heard the teacher mutter something about a poet under his breath.

It was an hour, but it seemed like only moments. Logan was done grading. He thanked Virgil for the company, and walked through the door. Just as Logan left, Virgil looked back at the table, and saw that his coffee cup was still there. Picking it up, he could tell that there was still plenty of coffee.

Virgil was suddenly extremely grateful for the sharpie he carried in his pocket.

 “Logan, hey!” A hand grabbed the teacher’s shoulder, and he turned to see Virgil, panting, his breath visible in the cold air. “You forgot your coffee.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you.” He took it, nodded a goodbye to Virgil and went on his way. It wasn’t until Virgil was out of sight that he noticed something written on the cup in silver sharpie.

_443-924-4301 –Virgil_

Back on the street outside of the café, Virgil’s heart was beating fast. He shouldn’t have done that, he really shouldn’t have…Logan was probably laughing at his stupidity already, god, he was such an idiot- something in his pocket buzzed.

Slowly, he took out his phone.

_Hello. This is Logan. Maybe we could meet up at the café again, I’ll be there at the same time next week._

They were both there at the same time the following week.

Logan shyly asked if Virgil wanted to come to his apartment, to spend the holidays together.

Virgil said yes.

Logan was slower to show affection than Roman had been. But once he did, Virgil saw how his cold, logical, analytical brain came together to create something beautifully unique.

His own snowflake.

Late January came, the snow was mixing with dirt, and melting into a brown sludge.

“Virgil, I got into the teacher’s abroad program. I’ll be teaching in France.”

There were no tears as Logan packed his bag, or even as he dropped Virgil off at his own apartment. Not even as Virgil watched the car drive away through his window.

He was numb.

The snow was melting outside, but Virgil’s heart was frozen.

Unable to cry.

As cold as the stubborn icicles that still clung to his windowsill.


	4. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bike. A diner.

Spring meant flowers in bloom and birds chirping, but all of it was too cheery for Virgil. He was alone in his apartment. The man had barely eaten anything, the lights hadn’t been turned on in weeks. Blinds were drawn, and dust collected everywhere. On the rare occasion that he did go outside, he would walk double the distance necessary just so that he could avoid seeing the café.

Spring.

Everything outside was coming back to life as Virgil was wasting away.

He needed food, he needed sunshine, and he needed to move his legs. Finally, one evening, he left his apartment in search of some small shop where he could buy a bag of chips to live on for the next week.

It was a monumental effort to get dressed, to leave the apartment.

When he made it outside, the sun and the bright blooming flowers hurt Virgil’s eyes.

He passed by the park, where kids dashed around, couples strolled along paths, and a man bubbling with energy rode on a bright blue bike. The bike’s basket held a bouquet of flowers, and the man wore a crown of dandelions that had been tied together. He gave a smile and a nod to everyone he passed along the path. Virgil rolled his eyes and tried to get away as quickly as possible, but the man turned his head at just the precise moment, and their eyes met.

The man immediately slowed to a halt on the path, and stumbled a few steps in front of the bike. Virgil was caught in his gaze, unable to walk away, even if he had wanted to.

Cheekily, the man gave Virgil a wink and a nod in the direction of the diner next to the park. Virgil didn’t say no.

They met up at the entrance, Virgil’s heart beating a million miles a minute. The man rode up to him, and locked his bike on a stand. When he looked up at Virgil and smiled, Virgil couldn’t help but gasp.

His smile was brighter than the blooming flowers, brighter than the sun, and yet it didn’t burn Virgil’s eyes. It planted seeds, seeds of something that was almost like hope.

Something that might’ve resembled a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you! My name’s Patton.”

“Virgil.”

Patton stuck his hand out, and they shared a friendly handshake before entering the diner.

They sat across a table, and Virgil watched Patton, who was entranced by the intricate patterns painted on the walls.

That spring evening was full of bubbly champagne, and laughter.

Real, honest laughter.

The first time Virgil laughed at one of Patton’s jokes, he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. Patton’s eyes lit up, and for a while, he made jokes and puns in an effort to hear that laugh again. Virgil was losing his inhibitions, and by the end of the meal, he was joking along with Patton.

Virgil didn’t mind walking alongside Patton slowly biking back to Patton’s apartment. They enjoyed the warm spring air, and the twinkling stars above.

The rest of the night was wonderful, full of giggles, nervous glances, and lips against skin. Patton pulling him onto the bed, his hoodie dropping onto the floor.

He wasn’t as cocky as Roman, wasn’t as cold as Logan. And that made him all the more entrancing.

He was spring, he was smiles and laughing and just a bit of hope that maybe Virgil did deserve this, maybe he could find a way to be happy.

But when the sun beamed in through the window and urged Virgil to wake up, the magic of the night had faded. Looking at the man beside him, he knew that he couldn’t stay. Someone so joyful and kind didn’t deserve to be stuck with…someone like him.

And so, this time, he was the one who left.


	5. It's Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three seasons, Three guys.
> 
> Three memories.

It’s summer now.

Planes that fly overhead still make his heart skip a beat.

Papers that tumble out of his hands still make his chest ache.

Flowers in bloom still remind him of champagne, laughter, and tangled sheets.

_“Summer romances are bullshit.”_

But the other seasons? The romance tied up in them can be heartbreakingly beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Also! This was partially inspired by SubverCity, another amazingly queer podcast. You should probably check it out, it's pretty amazing.


End file.
